Chapter 40: Take your clothes off
I decided to do something else to pass time before Tiffany gets back. I opened the file laying on the desk and pulled out the photos nestled inside. It was things like this that churns people's stomach.
The first photo stopped me in my tracks. A gray-haired man, not the old man kind of gray, but the hot man kind, looks dyed, and he looks like he's in his mid thirties or even forty. his lips pressed firmly against Nancy’s. His hand rested on her cheek, a gesture that might’ve seemed affectionate if it weren’t so obviously wrong. I stared at it, tilting the photo slightly as if the angle might change what I was seeing. But it didn’t.
Uncle Matthew.
I picked up the second photo, already bracing myself.
This one was worse. His hand gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it up just enough to reveal her waist. The other hand, far too intimate for comfort, rested on her thigh. Nancy’s face wasn’t visible in this shot, but the angle of his posture, the way his fingers curved into her skin—it screamed control, and I felt that she wasn't definitely liking it.
Theast photo was kinda different. Unassuming. The kind of picture that could easily be overlooked if you didn’t know what you were looking for. He was picking her up from school. She was walking slightly ahead of him, her head turned away, unaware of the camera capturing the moment. But there was something about the way he reached for her, the possessiveness in his posture, that made my skin crawl.
Hate it, but I love it.
I sat back, the three photos spread out on the desk before me.
If anything, seeing these made my day feel... lighter. In a happy way, of course, and that sense of accomplishment was just the right thing I wanted to feel. A sick satisfaction that this would do exactly what I needed it to.
Pain. Fear. Control.
Such beautiful things.
I drummed my fingers against the edge of the desk, staring at the photos a little longer. Tiffany had done well—very well if anything.
The knot that had been sitting in my chest all day loosened just a little. Maybe today wasn’t entirely wasted after all, and that made me want to go downstairs, which I would, if I didn't know better.
Oh, sweet uncle Matthew.
\------
The soft sound of the door clicking brought me back from the brink of sleep. Once, twice, and then the door creaked open. Tiffany walked in, holding a sleek black customized nylon bag that immediately caught my attention. Her pace quickened as she approached the desk, holding the bag carefully in front of me.
I blinked a few times, shaking off the haze of exhaustion, and looked at her expectantly. "The phone?" I asked, gesturing toward the bag.
Tiffany glanced at me and then at the bag, almost hesitating. “Yes, Miss Blakely.“
“What brand is it?”
“Samsung, Miss. The Galaxy Z Fold 6.”
I raised a brow, leaning forward to get a better look at the bag. The name rang a bell. Expensive. I nodded approvingly, motioning for her to hand it to me. “Good. Leave the box here.”
After keeping it on the desk she didn’t move immediately, instead looking slightly flustered. “Was the information on Mi–Nancy what you wanted, Miss”
I paused, her words cutting through my groggy state. Right. The video. I almost forgot. “Right. Yes, write down the passcode for the video before leaving.“
She nodded obediently, hurrying to the small table by the corner of the room where a notepad and pen were lying. Her hands moved quickly, jotting down the code on a small piece of paper. Once she was done, she placed it on the desk beside me and stepped back.
“Anything else, Miss Blakely?”
I waved her off, already focused on the box. “No. Go.”
With a slight bow, she retreated, closing the door behind her softly. The room returned to its quiet state, except for the rustling of the nylon bag as I pulled it closer.
I opened it carefully, revealing the pristine packaging inside. The Galaxy Z Fold 6 box was sleek, black, and minimalist, exactly what I’d expect from a brand like Samsung. I traced my fingers over the embossed logo for a moment before sliding the box out.
Unboxing was always a process I enjoyed—something about the meticulous care companies took to package their products made it oddly satisfying. I slid my nails under the adhesive seal and lifted the lid, revealing the glossy device inside.
Now I felt like making an unboxing content. Heh.
I emptied the box, neatly laying out the phone, cable, and everything else it came with. The smooth packaging was satisfying, and I had less time to admire it. With a small huff, I pushed everything aside, clearing the space on my desk.
My attention snapped back to the laptop screen, where the video prompt was still waiting, the password field blinking expectantly.
The video title stared back at me, daring me to open it. I grabbed the paper Tiffany had written the code and went through it.
1389.
I whispered the numbers aloud, committing them to memory before tossing the paper into the drawer. Quickly I typed the numbers into the password field and hit enter.
The screen flickered. A loading bar appeared. It crawled forward, teasing me with every second it took.
Finally, the bar reached the end, and the screen went black for a moment before it began to process.
I leaned back slightly, my fingers tapping on the desk as I waited inpatiently.
The loading bar disappeared, and the screen flickered to life. The folder opened at last, revealing its contents.
There was only one file inside that led to the video.
My eyes locked onto it, and I leaned forward slightly, the cursor hovering over the thumbnail before I tapped it gently, watching as it filled the scream. I leaned forward to get a clear view of what was about to play in front of me. Soon the video started and the first thing I head were sweet uncle matt, asking his lovely niece to take her clothes off.